Even a RAT dines

Whites castles and silver plates
Melts scented candles 
The light from bronze chandeliers

If these walls can shrink,
The heavy air within
Fills my lungs with lays of dust particles

The old wine tastes dull 
Must be these faces around the table 
Filthy and expensive

The rugs that blur their nudity
But not their souls

Void and dark

Their selfish hearts and smirks
Decays meat in their teeth 
From a last kill you fouled hyenas

The blood,
Mild, 
And no decency

Smiley hogs
Their grunts known to the sun 
The wind must have come with aplague

The winter streets
Frozen and dead
Cries a Raven on a broken cart

Even a rat dines, 
On marrow of a dead king
Should the sky turn grey

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